


Listen!

by everlarklane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (it's alcohol but whatever), Caning, Charlus is a Good Dad, Child Abuse, Cruciatus, Gen, Hangover, James Potter is a Good Bro, Marauders' Era, Nightmares, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, Underage Drug Use, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting, shitty parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 20:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10498911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlarklane/pseuds/everlarklane
Summary: When Sirius Black appears on the rain-soaked doorstep of Potter manor, Charlus Potter realizes that sometimes, your children aren’t always the ones that were born to you. Even when they cause grey hair and heart attacks, nothing could change his love for them.“…I cannot promise you that I won’t ever be disappointed, but I will never not love you.“





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in...2014, I think? But it's held up pretty well and I am still kind of a fan of it, so *jazz hands* Sirius and Charlus feels. Enjoy.

Charlus James Potter was a laid-back man.

At the age of sixty, he had seen much and had learned through many harsh lessons that it was often better to live and let live than to hold grudges and stomp around in a fury.

When his only son James was born, Charlus was given an eternal test in patience and self-control. James seemed to have a knack in causing mayhem. While the mischief could be entertaining, too often the child had put himself and others in danger. Truth be told, Charlus was both relieved and nervous about sending young James, complete with his ego and capricious, mischievous ways, off on the scarlet Hogwarts Express. He simply prayed, waving to James, that Hogwarts would still stand when James was through with it.

When James had written to his father the morning after 1 September, Charlus had been surprised to find that his son had befriended the Black heir, Sirius. By all accounts, the family was bad new, but, if James’ letter was anything to go by, Sirius was the proverbial ‘black sheep’ of the family.

This letter was soon followed by another from Minerva McGonagall detailing James’ various and numerous misdeeds…

Charlus took a sip of the bitter tea and sighed, staring at the latest weekly letter from McGonagall, the last he would receive until September. Soon, James would be returning to the manor, ready for a surely adventurous summer.

The man ran a callused finger over the creamy paper, smudging the crimson letters forming his name and location. Taking another scalding gulp of tea, Charlus pushed aside the bulging envelope and focused on his nice, quiet breakfast.

 

* * *

 

 

“Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad. DAD. Dad. Da-”

“James Thomas Potter, repeat that one more time and I will Silencio you.”

James’ mouth shut with an audible snap and Charlus turned tiredly around from the head in the fireplace.

“I’ll talk to you later, Charlus,” said Albus Dumbledore with an amiable sparkle in his eyes.

“Thank you,” Charlus replied. With a sudden flash, the head was gone and the flames returned to a cheerful orange. Charlus then stood up, cracking his back slightly as he turned to face his son. “Yes?”

“Sirius replied,” James said in a solemn tone, handing over the slightly crinkled manilla envelope, embossed with the Black seal.

Charlus raised one black eyebrow but took the envelope. Normally, James would be excited over a letter from his best friend. “Are Remus and Peter coming?”

“Yes,” James said impatiently. “Read the letter! Please!”

Charlus sighed and sat down on the comfortable couch, carefully reopening the envelope. With practiced ease, the man slipped the letter out from within with nary a wrinkle. Charlus scanned over the letter, his chest tightening with every word.

_James,_

_My mother says I can’t stay over. She’s been ranting about bloody 'blood-traitors’ for hours and I just want to SCREAM! Merlin. I wish I could come over- maybe I should run away?_

_Actually, that seems like a pretty good idea. At least I’d be away from the mad woman ranting away downstairs to the dead house elves. Regulus isn’t helping much either. He’s changed since I went off to Hogwarts and even more so since becoming a Snake. I’m glad he doesn’t have to worry about Mother going off on him much anymore but he could at least try to reason with her. He has influence as the golden boy after all._

_Ah, but this is too heavy, isn’t it? I’ll try to send a letter later._

_Cheers,_

**_SIRIUS_ **

Charlus sent a worried glance to his only son and was distantly proud underneath his swirling emotions and thoughts to see his worry reflected in James’ hazel eyes. He had always felt something was off about the Black boy who he considered to be another son of his, but had always shrugged it off as being paranoid. But this…

“Somethings wrong,” James said firmly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Sirius never talks about his family- in letters or otherwise. And-”

“This talk about running away,” Charlus said, his eyes fixed on the letter in his hands. “Would he do it?”

James hesitated. “I don’t know. He might…if things got too bad.”

“What do you mean, 'too bad?’” Charlus asked, his throat tightening. He had a feeling Sirius’ issues weren’t simply swats on the tush for bad behavior or a strict talking to about putting himself and others in danger.

James looked away, guilt on his face. “He told me not to tell anyone.”

Charlus swallowed and focused on his son. “Tell anyone what?”

James shuffled his feet and scratched his cheek, sure signs of his nervousness and anxiety. “His mum hits him and curses him, Dad. I’ve seen the bruises and it is messed up. How could anyone treat their child like that!” James’ voice gradually rose in volume and pitch. “I’ve heard him begging in his sleep for her to stop, to leave Regulus alone! And he’s always mentioning how disappointed and angry his mother is about how Sirius is a 'blood-traitor’” James spat out the offending word. “He flinched when we learned about the Cruciatus curse, Dad. Flinched!”

Charlus pushed back his mounting rage at the Black matriarch and gently put a hand on his son’s heaving shoulders. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “Have you told anyone else? Has Sirius?”

James bit his lip. “Madame Pomfrey is always trying to get Sirius into her ward after the feast,” he tried. “I don’t know if he actually told her, though. I’ve complained to McGonagall, but she always tells me that she’s 'looking into it’. And then she sends him home! Yet the Slytherins who are abused are always extracted or given different protection stuff! Why not Sirius?”  
Charlus pulled James’ into a hug, recognizing the tears that were just beneath the surface, which startled him. James was not one prone to tears or even fits of emotion like the one he had just experienced. “Oh, my boy,” he sighed, his face lined and troubled. “I don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

 

A week passed. Charlus inquired around, attempting to scrap together evidence for an investigation, but if anything, the Black mother, Walburga, was efficient at hiding her tracks. Remus and Peter soon arrived and James’ black mood (which had arrived and remained since Sirius’ missive) lifted slightly. The boys were rambunctious, but not as eager as usual. Charlus was unsure as to whether this was the lack of Sirius in the group or the letter, which he assumed James had shared with them.

Every morning, James was half-distracted, frequently glancing at the window. Charlus had not missed the slight falling of his face when he realized Sirius had not written. And frankly, he was getting worried for his son (and his friend).

This cycle seemed like it would continue indefinitely, until one stormy night, a boy appeared on their doorstep, sodden and desperate.

 

* * *

 

 

Lightning shot across the pitch black sky as rain lashed the windows. James, Remus, and Peter were 'quietly’ playing a game of wizarding chess in front of the fireplace, cheering or groaning whenever a piece was lost. Charlus himself was grim as he read the Daily Prophet, the tales of war and terror bringing memories old and new of his own battles- with Grindelwald’s army and with the new Dark Lord, Voldemort. Or rather, He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, a recent development that Charlus had heard more and more in Diagon Alley and on the platform in Kings Cross. Licking his thumb, Charlus turned a page, eyes scanning the next paragraph. The clock on the wall ticked peacefully.

James and Peter let out a groan as Remus chuckled quietly. “There goes your queen,” the mild-mannered werewolf said.

Charlus hid his grin at the slightly panicked look on his son’s face as he stared at Peter.

“Now what?” James whispered. Peter shrugged helplessly.

Suddenly, Remus froze, his eyes swiveling to the door. “Do you hear that?”

James sat up, his eyes narrowing. Peter scrambled to his knees as well.

“Footsteps,” James and Remus said together.

“Footsteps?” Peter squeaked, glancing at Charlus. “Is it D-death Eaters?”

Charlus swept to his feet with his wand in hand, sending a questioning look at his son. He, Charlus, hadn’t heard anything and although he understood how Remus could hear something like that, James surely couldn’t. “Boys, fetch your wands and be ready to retreat. Understood?”

“Understood,” the boys said, rising to their feet. Charlus then turned his attention on the front door, wand pointed straight ahead. “Peter, go warn my wife that we may be in danger.”

The boy let out an affirming noise from behind Charlus.

The tension in the room grew as a hollow, echoing thud rapped on the door.

Charlus raised an eyebrow. What Death Eater would knock before attacking?

Either one very smart or very stupid, a voice whispered inside his mind. Charlus walked forward slowly, his muscles tense and bunched. His hand slowly reached out and took the bronze doorknob and with a twist of his wrist, the door opened. Charlus prepared a stunning spell but before he could cast it, he froze.

A boy was standing there, soaked to the bone. Blood trickled down his pale forehead and with a nasty jolt, Charlus realized who it was.

“Sirius!”

Sirius wobbled dangerously, his grey eyes fixed on Charlus. “Please…” he croaked. “Can I come in?”

Charlus immediately nodded, his hands shooting out to steady the swaying teen. Sirius flinched slightly and Charlus’ eyes darkened. “Come on, son,” he said, his throat tight. “Let’s get you some tea.”

Sirius nodded weakly and leaned against Charlus’ side, obviously exhausted. His normally healthily olive skin was waxy and pale and his face seemed slightly sunken. Eyes, normally sparkling with the same mischievousness as James’, were wary and nervous, scanning the Potter living room. Charlus quickly sat down the boy and snatched an afghan blanket from his wife’s chair. “Boys! Dorea! It’s just Sirius!”

There was a sudden crash and James came sprinting into the living room, shoving his wand into his back pocket. “Sirius?” His eyes fell upon his best friend and they came together in worry. “Sirius!”

“Is he okay?” Remus called from behind James, pulling Peter along.

“Are you?” Charlus asked, wondering whether the Black heir would lie or not.

“I-I d-don’t know,” Sirius chattered, wrapping the blanket more firmly around himself with a slight wince. Charlus stayed silent and waited. “What?” Sirius said, blinking at Charlus.

“You are hurt,” Charlus said quietly. “Cold and exhausted as well.”

Sirius looked away with a scowl on his face. “I…”

“Charlus?” a feminine voice called. Charlus turned to see his wife standing in the doorway, a wand held loosely in her hand. Her blonde hair was flying away from its loose bun, a sure sign that she had just woken up from a nap. Her eyes fell on the shivering boy in Charlus’ chair. “Oh, Sirius!” She hurried over and knelt down beside the boy, her blue-grey eyes scanning Sirius’ face. “What happened to you, dear boy?”

“You know what happens to heirs who don’t fit in,” Sirius said bitterly, looking up into the eyes of his distant relative.

Dorea’s eyes softened in understanding. "Yes. I do.” Her eyes then narrowed in anger. “That Walburga Black! She was bad news from the start!”

Sirius gave a low chuckle. “That’s true.”

“Mate, what happened?” James asked from beside his mother. Remus and Peter peered around their leader’s shoulder at the Black boy, eyes warmed with curiosity and worry.

“I couldn’t take it anymore,” Sirius said, hunching into himself. He looked simultaneously proud and angry at himself, which confused the Potter men.

“Take what?” Remus asked gently, his amber eyes staring straight into Sirius’ grey.

“Nothing,” Sirius grunted, his face shutting down. “I’m tired. Is it okay if I stay the night?”

Charlus nodded and picked up the sixteen year old in his arms. Sirius let out a girlish shriek as he was lifted into the air.

“What are you doing?!” Sirius exclaimed, staring into the seemingly- elderly face of James’ father (he had aged badly).

“Putting you to bed,” Charlus said simply. “If you do not want to talk, you should sleep. We can speak in the morning about what caused you to run away.”

Sirius stared searchingly into Charlus’ hazel eyes and nodded. “Please put me down,” he said. “I feel like a child.”

“You are one,” Charlus pointed out, gently setting the exhausted teen on the couch, wrapping a blanket around the thin body.

“I’m really not,” Sirius muttered quietly, staring at the dancing flames of the fireplace was unseeing eyes.

Charlus frowned and sighed as he sat back down in his chair- which was slightly damp from Sirius. James and his other friends were quietly speaking in the corner of the room while Dorea stared sadly at her grandnephew. While James and Peter, and to some extent, Remus, still had childish wonder to their face and acted like children, Sirius’ face was sharp and lined. In his eyes were the experience of an adult, eyes that hadn’t been there a summer previous.

“No. Maybe you aren’t,” he conceded under his breath.

 

* * *

 

 

“Stop…” someone moaned in his sleep. “Leave…please…”

Charlus paused from where he had begun to pour himself a cup of tea. Unlike many pureblood families, the Potters cooked their own food and made their own drinks. Any house elves (the Potters had three, though one was only a child) simply cleaned the house and took care of the grounds. Taking his cup, Charlus left the kitchen and entered the living room, where a dusty sunrise had begun to paint the room.

James, Remus, and Peter were sound asleep in front of the fire, a blanket laid across their bodies. The trio had refused to leave the night before and neither adult had the heart to kick them out.

The noise, somewhat unsurprisingly, was coming from Sirius. The boy was twisting and turning on the couch, his blanket on the ground. Sweat beaded his forehead.

Charlus set down his tea on the endtable and knelt beside the sleeping boy. His hand gently carded the slightly curled black hair as his thumb brushed back and forth against Sirius’ forehead. “Shh…” Charlus said, his voice low and soothing. “It’ll all be alright, son.”

Sirius relaxed into the touch, his face and breathing calming. Charlus smiled sadly, turning his gaze to the rising sun.

“I will help you, Sirius,” Charlus said lowly. “But I can only do that if you are willing to talk to me.”

Sirius shifted on the couch, his eyelashes fluttering.

“Honey,” a familiar voice said from behind him. “would you like me to make some breakfast?”

Charlus turned around to see his wife leaning against the doorframe. Her hair was dripping slightly with water and she had a fluffy robe wrapped around her. “Why don’t you get dressed first?” he said with a smile. “I know for certain that those three won’t wake up anytime soon.” He tilted his head at the trio on the floor.

“And Sirius?” Dorea asked, wiping water away from her forehead.

“He is sleeping fitfully,” said Charlus, a frown on his face. “But if last night was any indication, he may sleep until noon or later.”

Dorea nodded, yawning. “I’ll get dressed then.”

The door closed softly.

Charlus looked back down on the sleeping boy and withdrew his hand. Leaning back on his haunches, he stifled a groan as his joints creaked. Straightening, he moved to his chair and picked up the newspaper he had been unable to finish reading the night before.

All was quiet.

 

* * *

 

 

“Knight to B4,” said Sirius, watching as the said piece shifted across the board. “What do you want me to say?”

“Pawn to C2,” countered Charlus, scanning the chessboard. “Talk to me. Why did you run away?”

Sirius averted his eyes, nervously tapping his fingers against his borrowed slacks. As luck would have it, Sirius and Remus were about the same size- James was still rather short compared to his taller friends. The quartet had woken up around the same time, with Peter up first and James up last.

“Sirius.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sirius muttered, moving his eyes to the board. “Queen to A5.”

“Pawn to D1,” said Charlus. “Check.”

“How?” exclaimed Sirius, before seeing what the elder Potter saw. “Oh. King to E3.”

“Do you intend to go back?” Charlus asked. “Rook to E6.”

Sirius paused. “No.”

“Can you tell me why?” Charlus asked, taking a sip from his tea.

“Queen to A2,” said Sirius. “I couldn’t stand being there anymore.”

“Should I stop pushing?” Charlus asked, his voice low. “If I don’t know anything, Sirius, I can’t help you. But it is your choice. If you truly want to drop the issue, then we will.”

Sirius tensed, staring at his hands. Charlus’ heart went out to the child; the pain and fear the kid had gone through was palpable and created a much different picture of the happy-go-lucky prankster then Charlus had seen before.

“I…don’t know,” Sirius said hoarsely. “Part of me…wants to tell. But…I’ve spent so long hiding it…”

“Hiding what?” Charlus prodded softly.

“My mother…wasn’t the kindest women,” Sirius said, staring now into his cup of rapidly cooling tea. “I’ve always been different from the rest of the family…me and Andromeda. Andy’s mother was willing to overlook all that until she married a pureblood. Then, poof! Mother had fun burning her off the family tree.” Sirius sighed. “I imagine that it will only be a matter of time before she disowns me. Honestly, I wouldn’t be too bothered if she did.”

Charlus didn’t say anything as Sirius fell silent. He scanned the chessboard, mulling over the information Sirius had just divulged to him. The breeze gently ruffled their hair and caused ripples in the cold tea.

“She was always angry when we slipped up,” Sirius said suddenly. “We were raised to be perfect purebloods, you see. So if I was rude or if Regulus cried, she would get so…angry. Like a muggle bomb. At first, it was just yelling and reprimands. Sometimes extra lessons with our tutors. But then…”

Charlus felt his stomach twist at the faraway look on the boy’s face.

“When I was five and Regulus was three, she finally snapped,” Sirius said, poking a finger in his tea. “Bella, Andy, and Cissa were over with their parents. We were supposed to quietly exchanged proper pureblood chit-chat and drink tea. But I was bored and I decided to play a prank.” Sirius began to swirl the tea with his finger. “To put it shortly, Bella and Cissa left covered in tea and sugar. Regulus was crying and Andy was hiding a worried smile. Bella wanted to kill me and Cissa wasn’t far behind. Mother managed to hold back her anger until they were gone but then the damn burst.” Sirius let a bitter, sardonic smile slip onto his face. “She hit me. Straight across the face. And then she gave me the caning of my lifetime. She wasn’t joking about that.”

Peering through his spectacles at the musing teen, Charlus pushed back the nausea that had begun to rise in his stomach. “Sirius-”

“Please don’t stop me,” Sirius said, now tapping on the side of the cup. “If you do…” He swallowed. “She’s never hurt me too bad- nothing that would leave long-lasting marks or anything. But I was always scared. And angry. I tried to get her to focus on me, not Reggie.”

“Your little brother.”

“Yes.” Sirius shook the tea off his finger and resumed tapping the ceramic. “It worked, for the most part. Regulus helped by being a perfect son. Apparently that carried over when he went to Hogwarts.”

“You feel resentment,” Charlus stated calmly, even though he felt nothing of the sort. This boy- a child he considered his own- had been so grossly mistreated!

Sirius squirmed in his seat. “Anyway,” he said, avoiding what Charlus had said. “It was pretty mild until I got to Hogwarts. She had only caned me occasionally when I messed up royally- at least in her eyes- and only smacked me around a little. Nothing too bad…”

“But…?” Charlus prompted almost silently.

“I was Sorted into Gryffindor,” Sirius said heavily. “At first, I was overjoyed. It meant that I really was not like the freaks in my family- with the exception of Andy- but then I realized what it really meant. Mother was going to be furious. So, to avoid her wrath, I stayed at Hogwarts over the winter with James, Remus, and Peter.”

Charlus nodded, remembering that winter as the one where St. Mungos was overflowing with patients and needed anybody with medical experience. A pandemic had been striking wizards- mostly full grown- left and right. Only Hogwarts had remained uncontaminated, due to them being away from the disease-carrying adults. Charlus had been brought in, having been a retired Healer. A combination of his busy schedule and wanting to keep James from getting ill, he had written for the eleven year old to stay at Hogwarts.

It had been a popular choice.

“Thanks for letting me stay over during Easter, Charlus,” Sirius suddenly said, jarring the older man out of his thoughts.

“Of course,” Charlus replied, smiling at the use of his name. It had taken until mid-third year to break Sirius of using his surname. Since then, the steadily more rebellious teen had begun to call everyone by their first name. Including Minerva McGonagall. “You are always welcome here, kiddo.”

Sirius blushed slightly and continued. “I didn’t have a choice in going home in the summer though,” Sirius paused for a moment, his finger ceasing its tapping. “That’s the first time she did it.”

“Did what?” Charlus said, dread curling up in his stomach again.

“Used the Cruciatus on me,” Sirius said almost inaudibly.

Charlus’ breath caught in his throat as he stared at the boy. “…what?”

“You heard me,” Sirius said bitterly, drawing his knees up to his chest. His sterling grey eyes were dark with badly hidden anger and resentment. “She’s used it…five times. Once in my first year, once in my second, once in my fourth year, and twice this summer.”

“Oh, Sirius.” Charlus exhaled, standing. He walked over to Sirius and pulled him to his feet, the boy protesting.

“What-”

“Shut up and give me a hug,” Charlus said, wrapping his arms around the too-thin teenager. For a moment, Sirius was tense in his arms. Then he relaxed, burying his face into Charlus’ warm chest.“You won’t ever go back to that- that bitch ever again, you understand? We’ll adopt you the moment she disinherits you.”

Sirius looked up, awe and fragile hope plastered on his face. “Really?”

Charlus looked solemnly down into those frightened and hopeful eyes. “Why not? You are already my child in all but blood.”

Sirius suddenly tightened his arms around Charlus and began whispering something. For a moment, Charlus couldn’t decipher it, but then he picked out what the child was saying.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Sirius,” Charlus said lightly, brushing Sirius’ hair out of his eyes. “I’m just doing what I should have done- and seen- several years ago.”

Sirius pulled away from the man with a flip of his hair. His eyes were slightly red and his cheeks were dusted with pink even as he stood like the aristocrat he was. He gave a wobbly smile to the older man and adjusted his clothes.

“Shall we continue our game?” Charlus asked. Sirius glanced at the board and suddenly brightened. “What?”

“Checkmate!” Sirius crowed, a victorious grin on his face.

Charlus glanced down on the board and raised an eyebrow. “You did that completely on accident, didn’t you.”

Sirius stilled. “Maybe…but I still won!”

Charlus shook his head, ruffling Sirius’ hair. “Whatever you say, kiddo.” He picked up his wand from beside the teacup. A light, peach-toned spell shot from the wand and suddenly the pieces and board were gone. “Let’s go have lunch. I’m sure James and the others are starving.”

As the pair walked away, neither noticed the bushes shaking. Hazel eyes framed by brown rectangular glasses, warm amber eyes, and mousy orbs peered out from behind the shrubbery.

“Mission 'Make Sirius a Potter’ is at go,” James whispered.

 

* * *

 

  
Not for the first time that summer, an argument had broken over Potter manor. What made this confrontation different, however, were the players. Instead of Dorea vs James it was-

“I won’t!”

“Sirius Black, you will obey the rules of this household or-”

“Or what?” Sirius said. “Throw me onto the streets?”

There was a long, ugly pause.

“No,” Charlus said, trying to ignore the pulsing in his forehead and the fury coursing through his veins. “I will have to punish you.”

Sirius paled but still argued. “But it’s stupid! Why-”

“Because jumping out of trees, leaping off roofs, poking a seemingly dead giant boar only for it to wake up, and doing it all drunk is neither a smart nor appropriate thing to do!”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Sirius said uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry Sirius, but I have to punish you,” Charlus said sternly. “And no, your hangover is not punishment enough. You almost got yourself killed today.”

Sirius closed his mouth and crossed his arms. He sat down on the couch next to James who was slowly shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you actually did all that,” James whispered. “Especially without me!”

“James Potter,” Charlus warned. James shut his mouth.

“If you’re going to punish me, do it!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed. His jaw was firmly set despite his paleness.

“How do you think I should punish you, Sirius?” Charlus asked, his face unreadable.

Sirius hesitated. “A…caning?” he said, paling further.

Charlus stared at Sirius for a moment, before shaking his head. “Is that what your mother would’ve done?” he asked.

Sirius tapped his fingers against the fabric of the couch. “Yes.”

Charlus fought the urge to massage his temples. In spite of the progress Sirius had made (with a lot of help from James), outbursts like this had continued. While the man knew that Sirius was simply testing the waters to see how they would react, it frustrated Dorea and himself to no end. Charlus wanted to shake the teen until he realized that none of them were going to strike him or use the Cruciatus on him but he also knew it would take time and a flying-carpet full of patience for Sirius to fully understand this.

“I’m not going to cane you,” Charlus finally said, running a hand through his rapidly greying black hair. “I told you, I never use violence on my children.”

Sirius blushed slightly at the insinuation that Charlus saw him as another son and James grinned. “So…?” Sirius asked.

“You are grounded,” Charlus said finally. “No sending letters to your friends, no wireless wizarding radio, and no going into town to watch muggle television and listen to muggle radio. You also have to help the house elves clean and do the laundry for a week.”

The look on Sirius’ face was priceless.

“Oh, and that isn’t all,” Charlus said as the boys began to rise. “Sit.”

“Here we go,” James muttered under his breath.

“First, Sirius, how did you get the alcohol to begin with?” Charlus asked, his eyes latched straight on Sirius’ grey.

“Er…” Sirius said, averting his gaze. “I snuck it from the cellar.”

“And do you have permission to be down there?” Charlus asked.

“No.”

“Even I’m not allowed down there!” James piped up. Charlus sent his son a look.

“Sirius, when we tell you not to go somewhere or do something, we are doing it to protect you,” Charlus said, holding his hands behind his back. “At Hogwarts, you are not allowed to go to the Forest, correct?”  
“Correct,” Sirius replied.

“And why is that?” Charlus asked.

“…it’s dangerous,” Sirius muttered. “Younger students have been seriously injured in there before.”

“Students have been killed in there before,” Charlus corrected. “Granted, it’s been years, but it is possible. The rules are in place for a reason, my boy. They are to keep you safe. Next, getting drunk.”

“I didn’t mean to get drunk!” Sirius burst out. “I just wanted to try it and I-”

“Took it too far,” said Charlus. “Getting drunk can be very dangerous. You could have been killed today! You poked a boar- an animal that is potentially deadly! You also leapt from several high points, trying to fly or get off of it. You are damn lucky that you only broke your wrist and that I have Healer training.”

“But I didn’t do it on purpose!” said Sirius, his eyes searching his substitute father. “I didn’t think I’d get that drunk!”

“You have a piss-poor alcohol tolerance, mate,” James muttered. “It’s not surprising.”

“That doesn’t matter, Sirius!” Charlus exclaimed. “Everything has consequences and every action has a reaction. Getting drunk and climbing on a broomstick could end in disaster- muggles spotting you, crashing, and more. Getting drunk can land you with a kid you didn’t mean to have. And some drunks…” Charlus shook his head. “You need to be careful, child.” His eyes softened. “We-” he glanced at James and then back at Dorea, who was watching with a small, sad smile on her face, “care about you. We don’t want to see you hurt or Merlin-forbid, killed. This is why we punish you, with reasonable prices. You are to do extra chores to learn responsibility. You are grounded to show you that acting impulsively and stupidly has consequences that limit what you can do. Do you understand?”

Sirius nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding completely genuine. “I just…”

Charlus sighed. “I know…” he replied, crossing the room with three long strides. He knelt down between James and Sirius, taking their hands. “I care about you kids. I want you to live long, happy lives, filled with children and blessings. I cannot promise you that I won’t ever be disappointed, but I will never not love you. Either of you.”

It was silent for a moment while the two boys took that in- one, an adored, loved child that despite his excitement over his best friend becoming his siblings was worried about being forgotten, and the other, an abused, suspicious child just trying to find his place in this new, loving environment.

Then, as one, the two normally 'cool’ kids launched themselves into the arms of their father, completely disregarding what kids at Hogwarts might’ve said.

It didn’t matter, not when they had a father as loving and accepting as their own.


End file.
